


On the Double

by PhantomProducer



Series: A Call to Arms [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America is Horny As Hell, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, I'm gutter trash, Irish Steve Rogers, Multilingual Steve Rogers, NSFW, Not Anymore, Original Character(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sort-of fluff at the end, Steve Rogers can speak French to me anytime, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers takes charge, Teasing Tony Stark, Vaginal Fingering, What Have I Done, but not really, sort of rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:03:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7143902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomProducer/pseuds/PhantomProducer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holly Martin is expecting a quiet night at home, looking forward to being joined by her fiance, Steve Rogers.<br/>However, the man known as Captain America has other plans.<br/>Set during the FF.net story, <em>The Eleventh Hour.</em> Takes place mid-April, 2015, sometime after Ch. 10 and before Ch. 13. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Double

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I have nothing to say for myself. I'm total trash, gutter trash, and I should be ashamed.  
> Oh, well!  
> Backstory to this: In Ch. 15 of my FF.net work, Holly teases Steve after he confesses to his slip of, "Language!" in _Avengers: Age of Ultron._ She playfully threatens to tell them about the "interesting things" that he let drop the last time he'd visited her back in D.C. He cuts her off before she can tell the team anything, and lets it go. However, there has been interest indicated in what Steve exactly said or did. What you will read below is what transpired.  
>  Again, shame on me.  
> I own nothing of the MCU, just the OC, Holly Martin. You can read about her relationship with Steve Rogers, and experiences with the other Avengers over on FF.net under the same username I have here.

“Well, wasn’t quite expecting this,” Holly breathed, voice airy and eyes hooded.  
  
Indeed, after a long day at work, she had figured that she was in for a low-key evening. The atmosphere around the bookstore was tense, with her boss meeting with his accountant frequently over budgeting concerns, not to mention the people who came in simply to stare at her. Though the furor over her engagement to Steve Rogers had decreased somewhat, there were still a fair number of men and women in the area who had figured out her place of work, and would eye her up. That day, a couple of cheeky teenagers cutting class had even gotten the nerve to ask her a few, very disturbing questions about her life with Captain America. She'd brushed them off, figuring it was the best way to get them off her case and out of her hair. By the time the clock ticked down to closing, she was more than ready to be done. A little home cooking, maybe a drink and some bad television, and getting the electric bill prepped and ready for the mail.  
  
And while she did know he would be on the way for the weekend, she didn’t think she would get jumped at the door by her fiancé. Okay, so perhaps “jumped” was a little over-the-top, but the brunette could not think of a better term for what had occurred. After deactivating the security and entering her apartment, she saw Steve rise from the chair in the living room. The stoic set of his jaw had made her bite off her happy greeting, but it was the look in his blue eyes that made her flush and her stomach flutter. He looked as though his thoughts were consumed by nothing but her, that he would consume her himself. What she didn't know was how true that statement was.  
  
One could never say that Captain America was not dedicated to his cause, to his work, to doing what needed to be done when it needed to be done. However, though he was engineered to be the best specimen of human male on the planet, the fact remained that he was, indeed, human and male. While he could concentrate on his missions and his team, there were still moments when he found himself distracted, his mind a thousand miles away, in a small D.C. neighborhood, with a pretty brunette who loved and cared for him as himself. Who had given herself over to him, and allowed him to do the same for her. He had tried, for the better part of the last couple of days, to keep his feelings in, to focus on the latest batch of captured HYDRA agents and the likelihood of locating Loki's scepter in the near future, but he still had his moments. Ones that weren't exactly missed by the more observant of his team members. For some reason, Steve could not prioritize his thinking; he couldn't help but recall the softness of Holly's lips, the feel of her body along his, how good she made him feel and how much he wanted her to feel the same in return. Tony, the first to recognize the signs, made a few cracks about it, and wound him up tighter as a result. When he finally was able to take off for the weekend, the billionaire breathed a sigh of mock relief.  
  
"Jesus, just go home and get laid already. The tension's getting to _me_ , and I'm not even in your relationship," he had sniped, a smirk stretching his lips as burning embarrassment scorched Steve's face. And so he left, the humility exuding from him...inevitably replaced by the ever-present simmering lust that could not be repressed any longer.  
  
Bending down to drop her purse and work off her shoes, Holly was startled as he tramped swiftly across the room to the hall. Swinging back up, her mouth opened, but she was cut off by his mouth capturing hers. Unimpeded, his tongue slid along hers, flicking and taunting her. Her moan was muffled, mixing with one of his own as his hands coursed over her body. Fingers curled into her jacket, pulling it off her shoulders and dumping it in a heap on the floor. One layer gone, he proceeded to tease and touch beneath the others, cool palms skimming over her warm stomach, a shudder and a gasp the result. There was no pause when his hands moved to her ass, squeezing tightly and forcing her onto the balls of her feet. Without hesitation, Holly curled one leg around his waist, the other joining it as Steve turned her to the wall and pressed her against it. The heat of his body, the strain of him against her, the heady scent of him and the softness of his hair as her fingers carded through it intensified the sudden pooling below, increasing when his deep kisses ceased and his lips moved to her throat.  
  
Somehow, she found the breath to express her sentiments, groaning as he sucked at the join of her neck. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat, and she could feel his lips turning up in a grin along her skin.  
  
“Missed you,” Steve murmured, breaking up the words as he left a wet trail from one side of her throat to the other. “Needed you.”  
  
“I can tell,” Holly whispered back, shifting her hips and carefully grinding against his obvious arousal. Hissing at the contact, he shifted as well, smirking when his buck back made her gasp. Her own palms roamed over his shoulders, his chest, up to cradle his head and bring him back down for another searing kiss. “You've got me, Steve. I'm not going anywhere.”  
  
“Not tonight, at least,” he drawled, huskiness and haziness in his tone making her tighten around him. Everything, from the passable day at work to her own hunger, had gone right out the window in that moment. She suspected it was the same for him as well; perhaps it was even because of his work that Steve was coming onto her so strongly. Holly knew that his work as an Avenger was difficult and dangerous at times, particularly as they were attempting to close the noose around HYDRA's neck and choke it out of existence. For good, that time. However, she could not make herself think about asking him for details—which he would likely give her the bare minimum of, for her own protection—or anything of the sort. Rather, she didn't want to think at all; she wanted to feel.  
  
And he was certainly making her feel. Light tugs on her hair tipped her head back, sensitive skin under his tongue as his fingers grasped hard at her. The nips and bites he peppered sporadically made her squeak and shiver. This was a bit different from her usual fare with him. In her experience, Steve had always been gentle, sweet when making advances. He always wanted to please her, make her happy, even if he needed to be nudged one way or another (less so lately, given that he had gained a considerable amount of knowledge in terms of what aroused her. He wasn’t a virgin flower anymore, nor did he want to be). This new-found aggression, dominance, was breathtaking, exciting even.  
  
Holly moved her hands again, determined to make their way down to his waist, slide up underneath the t-shirt that was fitting him so well at the moment, but he stopped her. His grip, having gone from her ass up her abdomen and teasing at her breasts through the cloth, latched around her wrists, holding her arms to the wall on either side of her head. Firmly, he kept them there, maintaining his onslaught with his tongue and teeth, his mouth hotly melding to her own and all over the skin exposed at the dip of her shirt. When that became problematic, he gathered her wrists in one hand, easily keeping them above her head as his fingers went to the buttons, working at them one after the other. Holly squirmed, wanting to just rip it off of herself, but Steve wouldn't let her. She groaned, moving her hips in order to gain the friction she so desperately craved, and he ground against her core, the jeans swathing them both providing a little of it as they went. As the last one came undone, her wrists were freed, his hands cupping instead at her breasts. Appreciation was mewled by her, her back arching into his touch and imploring him to keep going. If only the damn bra wasn't in the way...  
  
The sound of ripping fabric tore through the air, and Holly's eyes flew open as the cooler air hit her chest. The article she had just been mentally complaining about had been torn in twain, the cups pushed off with alacrity. Evidently, he had no time to bother with the clasps. A hard moan poured out of Steve as he bent his head, the swirl of his tongue over her nipples silencing any demands (joking or otherwise) of him replacing the piece of underwear he'd willfully destroyed. Her head tipped back, thumping against the wall as his lips closed around one. His suckling and the brush of his thumb over the other breast caused her to paw at his shirt's hem, yanking it up so that her fingernails could rake at the skin of his back. A breath caught in his throat as she did so, his retaliation another buck against her core and his mouth moving to the other breast.  
  
Just as swiftly as she had been pushed against the wall, Holly was swung down to the floor. Head swimming from the overriding sensations, she watched as he straddled her, pulling his shirt over his head while his lust-blown eyes stared down at her ravenously. His body loomed over hers, muscles and arms boxing her in. Before he could settle over her, hold her down, she shuffled backward, propelling herself out of the hall into the living room. Her journey from laminate to carpeted space was disrupted when she made contact with the coffee table, leaning back against it. Taken aback for a second or two, Steve raised an eyebrow at her, a flicker of doubt flashing over his face. Did he make a mistake, misread the moment? Impishly, she winked at him, smiling saucily as she crooked a finger at him and beckoned him to follow.  
  
A predatory gleam came to his eye then, his smile sharpening as he crawled towards her. When he got to her, his legs straddling hers, one arm curled around her back, holding her up while the other shoved the coffee table away. Enough force was behind the push to make it rebound off the arm chair and to the side, a new dent carved into it. Steve paid it no mind, instead trailing his lips along Holly's jaw and tugging at her shirt, desperate to get it and the scraps of her bra off. Once they were finally removed, he let her fall back, gaze lingering over her bare torso. Her wavy hair fanned out a little against the carpet, her dark eyes growing ever-wider with lust and want. She reached out to touch him, but he caught her hands in his, lacing their fingers as he bent over her and stretching them above her head. Eyelashes fluttered, their bare chests grazed one another, and she sighed.  
  
“ _So sehe ich Dich gerne,_ ” he groaned in her ear, so enticed by her that he slipped out of their mother tongue. Letting go of her hands, the pads of his fingers left a tingling trail down her arms, ghosting over her breasts and waist before seizing the band of her jeans. In his haste to undo her pants, the button popped off, thudding some feet away from them. Under his breath, he muttered, “ _Scheiße!_ ”  
  
The corners of her mouth turned down briefly in irritation; thus far, Steve now owed her two pieces of clothing. But, as the offender was distracting her hot, wet kisses on her stomach and hips, she let it go for the time being.  
  
“Oh, you sweet talker, you?” she said, the statement turning into a question as she realized she did not understand a word he'd uttered. Granted, her mother was from a German family, but she herself knew very little of the language. They hadn't been encouraged to learn more than a word here or there; her grandparents insisted on them being raised as an American family, and so her mom and uncles were not fluent, nor were their children. She knew some, but not enough...well, she did understand the curse Steve had tacked onto the end. His grin was wide, his head tipping to the side and otherwise not responding. Well, not verbally, that is.  
  
“You’re not gonna tell me what you said.” That time, it wasn't a question. Holly knew by the way his eyes glinted and his smile remained in place that he wouldn't enlighten her in that moment. There were other things to attend to, such as the removal of her pants. Lifting her hips, she obliged, the hook of his fingers at her ankles taking her socks with them. Now, nearly bare before him, he let a low growling sound rise up from his chest, spreading her legs to settle between them. Propped up on an elbow, he dropped his mouth onto hers, featherlight touches skimming down until a finger dragged along her covered slit. Moaning, her thighs opened instinctively, his knees keeping them propped wide for his trailing digit.  
  
Pulling out of his kiss, Holly looked up at Steve, the smarmy grin he sported becoming dirtier the longer her touched her down there, the wetness growing with every pass. The skittering pleasure humming under her skin was pleasant, but she wasn't about to let him get away with it.  
  
“Oh…okay, then,” she said, gaze narrowing slightly. With his hands occupied, she was able to move hers freely, nails sliding over his chest and abs, fingers rolling over his nipples before gliding downward. Her caresses went lower, matching his intensity as he continued to stroke her, the edge of the panties shifted enough to allow him to actually touch her. Impatient and worked up, she wrenched at the fastener of his pants, lowering the fly and loosening them. His hooded gaze watched as she slipped under the waistband of his boxer briefs, eyes closing as she curled her fingers around his hardened penis.  
  
“ _Merde…_ ” he huffed, her sexy giggle lost in the moment. His jaw went slack as she began to work her hand up and down, the slide of it making his hips twitch. Forcing himself to open his eyes, the haze of lust had tripled, clouding his vision as he stared down at her. If she kept pumping him like that, he would lose it well before he was ready to, and God help him, she knew it, too. An aura of certainty and confidence lit her smile and drove her on, driving him, too. “ _Tu me rends fou._ ”  
  
With that, his thumb delved deeper, finding the little bundle of nerves that made all the difference in times like these and pressing on it mercilessly. One finger, then two, slipped inside her, moving shallowly. She arched off the floor, pale throat exposed as she dropped her head back.  
  
“Oh, my God…baby…” Holly practically slurred, as though she was intoxicated by his ministrations, his command of language even sexier in the moment. In response, she started to pump him a little faster. He began to rock his hips, the slide of her palm along his length pushing him closer to the edge. Not able to take it much longer, he removed his hand from her slit, gripping her wrist and pulling her off himself. Off her look of befuddlement, he shook his head; he didn't want it to end like that, not that time. Backing away, he stood up, removing the last pieces of his clothes himself, gazing at her as she followed suit with her panties. Pants, boxer briefs, and socks were flung away, adding to the strewn trail of clothing on the floor. Fishing into the pocket of the jeans—he'd wanted to be prepared, in case she was open to the idea of him having her outside of the bedroom; and oh boy, was she open to it—he removed the condom there, tearing the packet open with his teeth and viewing her pupils dilate even further at the action. Sliding it onto himself, Steve knelt down, reaching out for her. Tugging on her hands, he guided Holly to sit up, mouth crushing against hers for a long minute or two. Fingers found purchase at her hips, pressing hard into them.  
  
“Turn over,” he whispered, observing her reaction warily. He wasn't so far gone in his desire to guilt her into it; if she didn't want it, then he wouldn't force it on her. Taking a few breaths, she scanned his face, several emotions running across her face before she nodded. Letting go, he gave her the space to get on her hands and knees, the strands of hair not sticking to her sweaty skin pushed to one side. Glancing over her shoulder at him, Holly smiled naughtily as she wedged her knees a little wider, opening herself up to him.  
  
For a moment, he just stared, enraptured by the sight before him. Her flushed, pink skin, the raise of her hips and ass, the gleam in her brown eyes as she caught him out. His hand strayed down to his member, ready to either pump or guide as he saw fit.  
  
“You want it, Steven?” she purred, a low chuckle bubbling out of her as his head jerked up and down automatically. “Then you'd better take it.” She twitched her hips, shaking her bottom in what she hoped was a come-hither way. She couldn't take much more of the waiting. “C'mon, Cap, take it.”  
  
Spurred on by her compliance, by the seduction of her form, he grabbed at the join of her hip with one hand and guided himself into her slick folds with the other. The feeling of her walls around him, molding to him, made him grunt low and deep. No further prompting was needed on either of their parts, as Steve began to thrust in and out. The slide of him inside of her made Holly tremble, filling her deeply and causing nonsense phrases to fall from her mouth. In turn, Steve muttered, letting his mind drift to whatever language suited the moment best. It was a new occurrence, that; Holly had known Steve was multilingual, due to the advancements of the serum on his brain and his own studies, but he rarely spoke anything but English in front of her. Something about the way his mouth formed in those phrases, saying things she didn't understand, his voice rough and gruff from the overwhelming actions of the moment, made her heart race and intrigued her. At one point, as he filled her with himself and his words, she found herself begging for him to keep going, wanting the talk as much as the thrust. As his thrusts became harder, and he pushed into her faster, he found himself mixing his words, French tumbling over English, harsh German dripping and mixing with the slap of skin on skin.  
  
Well, she was getting what she wanted.  
  
He felt along her front, alternating squeezing her breasts as she swayed in rhythm with him, the motion of her hips meeting his beat for beat. Angling himself a bit, he began to brush over the spot that made her shiver and shake, that made her unwind more quickly. Pants wracked them in between whispers, the sounds amping up the tension building inside of them. Her praises and curses for him echoed in his ears, driving him onward. Trailing down her stomach, his thumb found the sweet spot again, her body at his mercy.  
  
“Steven,” she crowed huskily, the tenor of her voice reverberating through him. Drawing from her reserve of wavering strength, she pushed back against him, determined to make him follow right after if she crashed first. The thrusts began to lose their rhythm, pistoning erratically as Steve felt the clamp of her walls around him. Once, twice, three times she pressed back to him, his chest heaving and his spine stiffening as the burst of heat shot through his body.  
  
“ _A chara Máthair Dé!_ ” he grunted hoarsely, half-forgotten words dredged up from the depths of memory, revived by ecstasy. Her own answering gasps were not too far behind, a few more rotations of his finger on her clit making her tumble after him. Riding out the orgasms, his thrusts slowed and petered off after a few moments, a kiss or two pressed along her back as he did so. Attempting to catch his breath, Steve had to take a second or two before pulling out of Holly. Once out, he turned and sat with his back against the couch, his head tilted back to rest on the seat. Sweat covered his body, and hers, too; some of his hair had matted down, glued to his forehead. His heart was beating frantically, the pace slowing the longer he sat. Quickly, as though removing a bandage, he pulled off the condom, thoroughly spent by their actions and no longer necessary. Tying it off at the end, he let it drop to the ground beside him. He'd toss it once they both caught their breath, once he wished to redress and get off the floor. However, such tasks were beyond him, beyond them both really. Somehow, as he was still descending back to Earth, he failed to notice his girl leaving the room, quaking limbs propelling her slowly to the bathroom to clean up. Time seemed nonexistent, and she returned soon enough. Holly placed herself beside him on the floor, head resting on his shoulder and legs crooking over his lap. Red marks had cropped up on her skin, love bites and outlines of his grip on her hips. Worried that he may have actually hurt her, he was mollified by her shaking head, honest denial on her tongue. Reassured, he sighed contentedly, his arm wrapped around her and a peck dropped on her crown.  
  
“You know,” she murmured, tracing a finger along his clavicle, “it's still swearing even when you're doing it in another language.”  
  
So she did catch him on it; it was unlikely she would let that go, given how he had rebuked her for strong language in the past. A faint chuckle colored his words, his breath catching before he could answer.  
  
“Technically, I only swore in two languages.”  
  
That was true; he hadn't let a dirty word escape his mouth in English. Lifting her head, she blinked sleepily at him, a corner of her mouth rising.  
  
“What were you doing in the third?”  
  
The grin he shot her was sheepish, a smattering of pink along his cheekbones. “Blaspheming.”  
  
Holly, watching him tilt his head in humor and mild shame, let her jaw drop in faux shock.  
  
“Better ask for forgiveness, then,” she retorted, half-kidding as she said it. His blush brightened at the admonition, likely taking it to heart despite the joking tone. Considering what he'd told her, her brow furrowed and she wondered aloud, “What was the third one? The French and German, I got, but...”  
  
A crooked grin came to his lips, eyes focusing on a distant point as he traced invisible patterns along her knee.  
  
“Gaelic. Mom taught me some of it, way back when. Didn't like to use it in public, though, and didn't want me to, either,” Steve told her, an uncomfortable expression decorating his face. Back in the day, the Irish were very much looked down upon, and having any obvious links to the country while residing in the United States—by name, language, or otherwise—was not desirable. It could limit his future, his mother had said, even worse than his asthma or the rest of his medical history could. But that hadn't stopped her from teaching her boy the language of their family, their people. As he confessed, he took her left hand in his, twitching her engagement ring a little as he did so, a claddagh. Another thing passed to him from his mother. “Still remember it, though; I can't write it worth a damn, but speaking it isn't much of a problem.”  
  
That seemed hard to believe, but she had to suppose that was the truth; it was more likely that the language would be passed on without it being written down for him to memorize. Either way, the end result was fascinating, and in the case of that instance, rather pleasurable.  
  
“The most interesting stuff comes out of your mouth sometimes...” she trailed off, sitting up a little.  
  
Steve shrugged. “I suppose. Depends on the situation, and if there's something worth saying at the time.”  
  
Lazily, Holly nodded, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, there's plenty to say about what we just did.”  
  
“Which both of us did.”  
  
She smiled ruefully. “At least you made it sound nice, love.”  
  
And he did, truly. She just wished she could do the same for him. Though, judging by the look he was giving her, whatever she had done pleased him well enough, made him happy to have her and hold her. Cupping her chin in the palm of his hand, his blue gaze met her brown one, reflecting the depths of his love and passion for her, and receiving it from her as well.  
  
“ _Cailín álainn._ ” A peck on her left cheek. “ _A chroí._ ” Another on her right, and a warm, long kiss on her lips followed, his forehead resting against hers after the fact. Grin broadening, she exhaled softly.  
  
“...Yep, that's a lot nicer than saying 'shit' in German. And French.”  
  
He snorted, closing his eyes. “Believe me, doll, I know it.”  
  
“Just imagine what the others would think if they knew,” she posited, imagining the scenarios of his team, or even her own friends, finding out about the newly-discovered propensity for foreign curses in the bedroom. Or, on the living room floor...the point still stood, no matter the location. His eyes widened at the idea, glancing at her in concern.  
  
“Our little secret?” he asked, arms looping around her, palms sliding up and down her back tenderly. Reveling in the touch, she tipped her head back, knowing he was both trying to sway her and genuinely wanting to stimulate her again. She was enjoying it far too much to stop him, but she couldn't resist drawing the moment out.  
  
“...Okay, fine,” Holly eventually yielded, as though it were a great concession on her part. The mischievous smile she shot him told him otherwise.  
  
Steve exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes at her deliberations and nuzzling her jaw. “Very generous of you, sweetheart.”  
  
“Oh, good, one I can understand,” she murmured, her giggles smothered by his mouth and her body cradled against his as he laid her down underneath him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations were done with an online translator, and are as follows:  
>  _“So sehe ich Dich gerne....Scheiße!”_ -German; I like seeing you this way...Shit/fuck!  
>  _“Merde…Tu me rends fou.”_ -French; Shit…you drive me crazy.  
>  _“A chara Máthair Dé!”_ -Gaelic (Irish); Dear Mother of God!  
>  _“Cailín álainn...A chroí.”_ -Gaelic (Irish); Beautiful girl. My heart.
> 
> Multilingual!Steve is love.


End file.
